


Nearly Witches (ever since we met...)

by whatacatchdummie (orphan_account)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Fantasy, M/M, Witch AU, historical fiction - Freeform, petekey, petekeysecretsanta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/whatacatchdummie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gerard Way is a witch, Mikey Way has a thing for hands, and Pete Wentz is good at saying the wrong things. (Salem 1693).<br/>PLEASE NOTE: the first two chapters are lighthearted and happy, establishing the relationship and all that but #tw for major character death in the last chapter!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pete Wentz is in a troubling predicament

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theorangewitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorangewitch/gifts).



> so this is for a petekeysecretsanta exhange, created by @sweetsummeroflike on tumblr!! it has three parts to it and they'll all be posted within the next twenty four hours!

“Didn’t you hear? The Iero’s were cursed!” said the boy.

“Cursed? What do you mean?” asked the girl with blue eyes, wide with curiosity.

“The boy, Francis? He was found jinxing their garden!” more children had circled around the two, fueling their naive conversation with foolish comments. _Frank?_ Pete stopped in place, before cautiously stepping towards the crowd of children.

“Jinxing? How so?” asked another.

“He was poisoning them, see? Spreading his evil elixirs onto them, making them grow into deadly plants!” one of the lads leapt onto a stone, mimicking an evil warlock as he hissed and howled, sprinkling imaginary dusts over the other children, who joined in and danced around with fake cries.

“How terrible! What’s become of the Iero’s now?”

“Dead, all of them, of course!” Said the tallest girl. “They were sent to the gallows a few nights back!”

“But they’ll come back!! All witches come back in some accursed form!”

Pete snickered and cleared his throat. The children gasped with fear, shaking in their leather shoes. “Excuse me, I don’t believe your parents would enjoy hearing you talk about all this nonsense. It’s almost sundown, a witch might hear you.” he said, his expression dark. Immediately, the swarm of youths dissolved into the larger mass of villagefolk, desperately trying to find their guardians. Pete laughed at their silliness and continued on his way

 

“Thank you,” a voice, softer than the wind that day, sent a chill up his spine. Pete turned around and saw a man in a black cloak, standing in the center of the bustling town square. The villagefolk around them was constantly moving, all but the two of them. The man, with long black hair and nervous eyes stood out like a sore thumb, yet Pete found himself drawn to his presence. He hesitantly walked towards the man. “The kids were beginning to give me a headache.”

“Uh, Pete.” said Pete.

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Pete,” he tried again, puzzled by the man’s curious speech.  
“Ah. Right.” he nodded and glanced up towards the clouds.

They waited for a minute, until Pete realized the man wasn’t going to say anything more. “What’s your name?” he asked awkwardly, avoiding the curious glances from the villagers.

“Gerard is fine,” he said, exposing his teeth in an eerie smile.

“...Alright?” said Pete.

“Alright.” replied Gerard.

It was quiet again. Pete looked down at his shoes awkwardly.

“Come with me, Pete Wentz. I’d like to repay you somehow.” Gerard turned and began to walk away. Pete paused, before jogging up to match his pace.

“Repay me for what? And how the hell did you know my full name?”

“So what do you do?” Gerard asked him, and Pete was puzzled by the sudden change in character.

“...I write? For the town newspaper?” he replied.

“What else do you do?”

“That’s it really…” he shrugged, cheeks flushing lightly. It was true, he had been spending too much of his time on work. Even his friend Patrick had tried to get him to take a break once in awhile, but Pete was too stubborn.

“What about Patrick Stump? Surely you two have similar hobbies, no? I’ve seen you in the market together before…” Gerard hummed, admiring the grassy field they had walked into. The busy noise of the town had been reduced to a soft murmur in Pete’s ears, and he found himself following Gerard absently, his mind barely focusing on what he was saying.

“No, Trick’s straight.” Pete shook his head.

“I never said he wasn’t.” Gerard answered cooly, a glint forming in his eyes. “I simply noted you spend a lot of your time with him, that’s all.”

Pete’s face flushed as Gerard stopped in front of a small cottage in the field. It stood alone, no neighbouring building in sight, but the bustle of the town was only a small walk away. It was peaceful; quiet, dark, mysterious, very fitting to the owner, Pete thought.

“Well, keep quiet about it.” Pete muttered into his coat collar. “In Salem, homosexuality is almost as bad as-”

“Witchcraft? Well, aren’t you double trouble then. Don’t worry, so is my brother.” he laughed, and Pete paled.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Hmm?” Gerard’s grin faltered when he saw the puzzled look on his face. “Oh, dear..”

“What? What is this about?”

Gerard’s lighthearted voice quickly turned dark, and the gleeful look in his eyes was replaced with a steel stare. “You _are_ a witch. Aren’t you? I-in the town, you said a witch might hear you. Surely, you were talking about yourself, correct?”

“I said..?” Pete thought about it and scoffed. “No, I meant that to scare the children. I’m not a...” Pete trailed off, finally inspecting the room he was lead into and, _oh…_

The room was as macabre as the outside of the house. Except each wall of the room was lined with bookshelves, each having bizarre titles. The small fraction of wall that was not covered with books had handmade markings painted on. From the ceiling hung plants that gave off bitter aromas and seemed to dazzle in the few scrapes of sunlight that made it through the wooden boards that blocked the windows. Pete could hear footsteps above him.

“Gerard? What’s the meaning of..” said the man, coming down the stairs as Gerard swore under his breath.

“Mikey, go back upstairs.” he mumbled, rushing to one of the shelves. “My apologies, Peter. You seem like a nice guy, but we can’t risk getting caught, not after Frank…” he trailed off and flipped through one of the books. “Now, where’s that spell on memory loss…”

‘Mikey’, had appeared next to Pete, much to his surprise. “Gerard, last time you tried to do a spell you nearly killed the cat. You’re a potion maker, not a spell caster. Remember?”

At that, Pete had begun to slink towards the door. “D-don’t worry, I won’t tell, honest.”

Mikey grabbed Pete by the back of his coat and held him back. Pete took this as an opportunity to look at the man.

Mikey seemed to be about his age, and had striking eyes similar to Gerard’s. Yet, Mikey’s eyes were warmer, calmer. His lips were formed into a tight line, and for some reason Pete wanted to see what they’d look like smiling. He had a feeling he could move out of Mikey’s grasp if he wanted to, yet he was paralyzed by the look he was given. Sure, Mikey was taller than he was, but Pete was sure he was stronger. Judging by Mikey’s free hand, which was balled up in a fist by his side, Pete guessed his hand could wrap around his wrist and he would be the one that was helpless. Yet, as if by magic, he remained still.

“Pete.” Mikey’s voice had snapped him out of his gaze as quickly as his eyes had put him into it. “Do you swear you won’t tell a soul about our…” he trailed off. Gerard gawked behind him.

“That’s all? You’re asking him?! Shit, Mikey. Why didn’t I ask the townspeople to not hang Frank? I’m sure that would’ve gone swell, don’t you think?!”

Pete shook his head quickly.

Mikey sighed. “Gerard, please. I know you’re still upset over Frank. Talk to Ray about that, I’m sure he can get you through to him.” he let go of Pete and turned to him. “If you tell anyone about this, I hope you know you won’t be the only one who get’s hurt because of it.”

“What do you mean?” Pete asked, glancing to Gerard, who was furiously scrubbing a hand across his face.

“Patrick Stump. You two are friends, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s not a witch. Is he?”

Both Mikey and Gerard were quiet. Pete felt a twinge of betrayal in his gut.

“He is, isn’t he? All the years… he never told me?”

“Pete…” Mikey sighed. “Patrick wanted to tell you. But, there’s been a lot of..”

“Someone’s been revealing our identities.” Gerard explained, clearing his throat.

“Our..?”

“Witches.” Mikey clarified. “Haven’t you noticed a big increase of witch trials?”

Pete pondered it. There had been a dozen in the past few weeks, Frank’s being the most recent.

“Innocent witches. Witches who have done nothing wrong. You know what Frank was doing out there?” Gerard asked, continuing without waiting for an answer. “It was a serum we had created. Together, he and I. We called it “Fertilizer”. See, it makes plants grow healthier. He only wanted to help but…” Gerard looked up to the ceiling again and laughed, but it had no mirth in it.

“That’s…” Pete murmured. Gerard and Mikey both looked at him curiously. “That’s terrible,” he looked down, thinking about all of the loss each of them had to endure. “I’m so sorry.”

Mikey’s face softened and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to let you go off the hook that easily,” he admitted.

“No, I understand,” Pete said quickly. “Actually, I’d like to help. I mean, you’ve trusted me with your lives.”

Mikey smiled. Pete decided he could get used to seeing that. “You want to.. help?”

“Yeah, anything for you, Mikey.” he said a bit too quickly. Mikey’s cheeks erupted into blossoms of red, and Gerard cleared his throat.

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t flirt while I’m around, thanks. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of you, Pete.”

Gerard went upstairs and Mikey smiled at Pete. “I suppose he’s right.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be seeing a lot more of you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Pete laughed awkwardly, but glanced out through the few cracks of sunlight which made their way into the room. “It’s getting late, though isn’t it? I better get going back. If I get caught after curfew, the villagers…”

“They’ll suspect you're up to witchcraft.” Mikey stood up straighter. Now, one of the slivers of light left a streak of gold on Mikey’s face. His light brown eyes were like fire, and burned into Pete’s gaze.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Possibly.”

“Alright.” Pete said, and began to walk towards the door, but stopped before he opened it. “Wait, Mikey-”

 

“Yes?”

 

Almost a little too quickly, Mikey had approached Pete again. Pete felt his cheeks turn pink.  
“Uh, you said Gerard was a potion maker, right?” Mikey nodded. “Well, that means there are different types of witch, right?” Once again, he nodded. “I was wondering, what kind are you?”

“I’m not one.” he chuckled.

“I thought you..?”

“Technically, I’m not a witch. Generally it’s passed down to the eldest of each generation. That would be Gerard. He’s twenty-eight--”

“How old are you?” interjected Pete.

“Twenty-Five. Anyway-”

“I’m twenty-six.” Pete pointed out. Mikey huffed out a breath in annoyance, yet cracked a smile at his childish behavior.

“Anyway, I’m a palm-reader. It’s not witchcraft, since it’s something you study, but it’s similar.”

“Could you..?” Pete held out his hand, silently hoping Mikey would take it.

Pete felt his breath catch in his throat as Mikey’s icy fingers traced the lines of Pete’s hand. It felt like time had slowed down, as if it was only the two of them in the world.

“You have a broken heart line,” Mikey said, sounding almost disappointed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re subject to mood changes, your emotionally traumatized.” he said, his tone never changing from monotone. Pete raised his eyebrow.

“Well, what about that?” he asked, pointing to a downward slope of the line.

“That’s a downward branch. It means you’ll be subject to heartbreak.”

“Oh.” he sighed, before smirking. “You don’t plan to break my heart anytime soon, do you, Mikey?”

Mikey rolled his eyes, his cheeks going red. “Go to hell, Pete.”

Pete pouted. “See? There it is. You wound me, Mikeyway.”

Mikey laughed, and it seemed to echo through the house. A long moment passed before Mikey let go of Pete’s hand. Despite Mikey’s hands being ice cold, Pete’s hand felt empty and chilly in his pocket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Pete.”

“Goodnight, Mikey.”

Pete began to walk back to town, but turned around to call out. “Mikeyway!”

Mikey appeared by the door, a curious look on his face.

“What’s your heart-thing like?” he asked.

Mikey cracked a smile. “My heart line?” he corrected him. His smile softened. “It’s broken, like yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

The sky was a dignified dust-pink when Pete ventured into town the next morning. He yawned once; although he had gotten back to his home with Patrick before curfew, he could hardly allow himself to sleep.

 

_ “Pete, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you eventually, I just..” Patrick had pleaded. _

 

_ “Yeah,” Pete nodded, “I get it.” _

 

_ Patrick sighed. “No, I mean there’s been-” _

 

_ “Mikey told me. Don’t worry, Trick. I’m not mad.” _

 

_ Patrick visibly relaxed, obviously nervous about how his ‘little secret’ would affect their friendship. However he cleared his throat and inquired, “Mikey Way?” _

 

_ Pete smiled, oblivious to Patrick’s puzzled gaze. “Do you know him? God, Patrick. You gotta help me out. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. His eyes! God, they're like fire! They’re a mix of this, this like, gold color and -- I think I’m in love. And--” _

 

_ “Pete, be careful.” Patrick said, warily. “It’s not exactly a good time to be seen with him. In fact…” he leaned in carefully. “There’s been talk around the town; people are suspecting them.” _

 

_ His mouth gaped open. Patrick continued. _

 

_ “We- the other witches and I, have been meeting up recently. It’s not very safe, but we’ve got an idea of who might be doing this. Someone’s been in cahoots with the mayor. One of us has been giving him our identities.” _

 

_ “Do you know who it is yet? When I get my hands on him-” _

 

_ “Pete, it’s not your battle to fight.” Patrick told him, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. “Gerard is going to put an end to this tomorrow. He might seem strange, Pete, but be sure you stay on his good side. You don’t want to see him angry.” _

 

_ Pete nodded and sighed, before looking up curiously. “Hey, Trick. What kind of witch are you, anyway?” _

 

_ “I focus mainly on song and melody- spells.” he answered smoothly, shrugging. _

 

_ “Really? I’ve always said you’re a gifted singer but, wow. Can I hear some?” _

 

_ “I’ve done spells on your before,” he admitted sheepishly. “Remember, when you had that fever and the doctors were getting nervous?” _

 

_ “You.. saved me?” _

 

_ Patrick blushed and shrugged, mumbling a confirmation. Pete grinned. _

 

_ “Thanks, Trick.” he smiled, before yawning. _

 

_ “I’m heading to bed.” Patrick said, waving off the praise as he headed into his bedroom. “Goodnight, Pete.” he said, closing the door. Pete chuckled and headed into his own bedroom and sat on his bed, tracing the same line on his hand that Mikey had. _

 

“Pete?” he heard a familiar voice and nearly fell off the fence he was sitting on. 

 

“Hmm? Oh! Mikeyway! Long time no see!”

 

Mikey smiled softly. “Hey, Pete.”

 

“Yeah, hi. Hey,” Pete rambled, leaning onto the fence again. He brought a hand to his mouth and yawned. Mikey laughed and Pete felt his ears go red.

 

“Gerard requested you for something. Probably to go and find out who’s been-” he cut himself off, coughing fakely into his sleeve. Pete stood up straighter.

 

“He wants me to go with him?” his smile brightened, but fell as Mikey huffed to himself.

 

“Yeah.” he mumbled. “I’ll be at home. Gerard doesn’t want me to go. ‘Too dangerous’ or whatever. It’s bullshit.” Mikey ran a hand through his hair and began walking back to the Way cottage, gesturing for Pete to follow suit (which he did, like a lovesick puppy).

 

“Well, I don’t want you to go either, Mikey. It’s probably not safe. I’ll be there because I owe you guys. Remember?” Pete admitted, ignoring the glare he received. It burned into his soul, but he continued. “You realize Gerard is risking his life for this, right? This w-  _ person _ could be dangerous. Gerard knows we both care about you in different ways. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d..”

 

Mikey interrupted him with a nudge. “Thanks. I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

 

Pete grinned, his cheeks turning pink. “No problem, Mikey.”

 

By now, the sun was at it’s highest in the sky, and the chatter of the town was hushing as they ventured away from the bustling city. It was just the two of them and the woods surrounding them. Pete felt like he should memorize the scene. The whispers of cool breeze, the hum of the forgotten town behind them. The look in Mikey’s eyes as they met his own.

 

“Pete?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Uh.” It was Mikey’s turn to blush. “You said you and Gerard both care about me? In different ways?”

 

Oh no. “Yeah?”

 

“Well, what did you mean?” Mikey stopped suddenly. Pete did too, avoiding his gaze by admiring the treetops, which did a good job of blocking out the sunlight. The outlines of the trees were lined with gold, and Pete added that to the scene he had memorized.

 

“I care about you?” he asked.

 

“Like, as a friend, or…” Mikey trailed off and Pete gulped. As Mikey said this, a golden leaf had leapt from it’s branch and cascaded down, onto Mikey’s head. Pete reached up to brush it off, before getting lost in how soft Mikey’s hair was.

 

Mikey moved his hand to Pete’s neck, tracing shapes absently onto his skin, which erupted with warmth at the touch. Pete wished the shapes could mark his skin forever. Very carefully, Pete leaned in, getting on his toes to reach Mikey’s lips. 

 

Then, very carefully, Mikey closed the gap between them.

 

Immediately, Pete’s chest erupted into a burst of searing joy and warmth. This was it. He had been kissed before but this! This was it, he could feel it in his fingertips, the electricity which surged between them. He knew Mikey could feel it too, for his free hand had moved to Pete’s shoulder, holding him there and --

 

A pinecone struck a tree behind them, exploding into small brown fragments as Pete and Mikey shot apart, faces red.

 

“...Anyway.” Gerard said, tossing another pinecone into the air and catching it. “Pete. Let’s go. From what we’ve gathered, the witch goes to the tavern by the river and writes down the names of the witches in the back room. He’ll be there for another twenty minutes.”

 

“R-right. I’ll be back. See you later Mikey?” he asked, but Mikey had already sped past Gerard and into the cottage. 

  
  


“So…” Pete had a feeling he knew where this was headed. “You and Mikey, huh?”

 

Pete coughed into his arm. “Well, I mean he’s a great guy and—”

 

Gerard cut him off. “If you hurt him, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“I’m glad I made myself clear,” he said, then relaxed his shoulders, breaking into a smile. “I’m glad, really. He wouldn’t stop talking about you yesterday. I would’ve have guessed you only met yesterday. Unless you knew him before then?”

 

Pete shrugged. “Maybe we met in another life.”

 

Gerard nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe.” he pointed to a run-down brick building. “That’s the place.”

 

Pete gulped as the older man lead him towards the back entrance of the building. It was noon, yet the tall buildings did a good job of blocking out all sunlight in the alley. Gerard rested his hand on the knob and paused, as if asking for permission. Pete opened his mouth to speak, but realized Gerard was mumbling incoherent things to himself. Pete shut his mouth and looked away modestly; a gust of wind stung his eyes and he immediately began to think about Mikey. Where was he? Maybe reading in the living room? Possibly in his bedroom? Would Pete ever see his bedroom? Was Mikey thinking of him? What’s the lighting like? Wherever Mikey was, Pete thought to himself, the lighting wouldn’t do him justice, Pete could confirm that. Mikey was made of gold, and the mortal sun was no match for the eternal fire in him.

 

With a click, the door opened. 

 

A man sat at a desk, writing death sentences with each slip of paper. From where he was, back turned in the center of the room, Pete couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary with the man. Gerard, however, became livid at the sight of him. He slammed the door and the man jumped, looking up with frightful eyes.

 

“Bob Bryar.” Gerard Way seethed. The man in question turned and glanced around the room, nervously looking at everything except for the pairs of eyes on him.

 

“G-Gerard! No time no see.” A rat-like grin formed on the man’s face. Pete felt sick.

 

“It was you, wasn’t it.” Gerard glared. “I could of guessed. An eel like you, giving up your own kind!” Gerard took a step towards him, baring his teeth like a wolf. Bob took a step back, smile fading instantly.

 

Pete reached forward to pull Gerard back, and gnawed on his lip.  _ It’s not my battle to fight, _ he thought.  _ Let Gerard get back at Bob for this, Gerard needs this more than I do. _

 

“Th-they promised I would live! They, they said if I--”

 

“Killed your friends, you would live?! What kind of life is that?” Gerard hissed, and Bob took another step back, pressing against the wall.

 

“Frank is  _ dead _ , Bob. He’s dead, and it’s all your fault.”

 

“Frankie?” Bob asked, sliding to the floor into a puddle of venom and fear.

 

It was quiet, and the tension could be cut with a knife. It was deadly silent, and then it was loud, as Bob began to laugh.

 

“Alright, it was me, Gerard. But that doesn’t mean you’ve won. I’ve been doing the acts of a God!” Bob cried out, standing up to defy Gerard.

 

“They’re afraid of you, Bob. You’re no God.” he said with a steady voice. Pete saw his fist tightening around the hem of his coat.

 

“Don’t you see? There is no God! We swarm to any power we can find, and if it kills another man, so be it!” Bob growled. “That’s how humanity works, Gerard. I’m just like you.”

 

“You’re a monster.” Pete cut in. Both pairs of eyes stared at him. Bob fell back, the power of Pete’s words stabbing him like a knife. “Death is death. You have innocent blood on your hands, Bob. As long as it’s there, you’re a monster.”

 

“I-I’m not… ” Bob started, and stopped. “I never meant to..”

 

Gerard stepped in softly. “You don’t have to do this anymore, Bob. You can stop. I believe in you. Please, don’t do this anymore.”

 

Bob didn’t reply. Instead, he collapsed to his knees and wept, his wails filling up the room. Pete looked away, embarrassed. Gerard leaned closer and whispered. “You get back to Mikey. I’ve got a few things to say to Bob.”

 

Pete didn’t hesitate to listen to him.

 

  
“Uh, hey.” Mikey didn’t waste time and opened the door as soon as Pete stepped up to it. He yanked Pete in and shut the door behind him, locking it quickly. “Is everything okay?”

 

Mikey’s jaw tightened. “The town’s villagers stopped by for a little ‘visit’.”

 

Pete’s eyes widened as Mikey continued. “Actually, let’s go upstairs. I don’t want to take any chances.”

 

Mikey’s soft hand held onto Pete’s carefully, as if Pete would fall apart in his hands if he wasn’t careful. As Pete was lead up the stairs, he realized that Mikey was the glue that kept him from breaking apart.

 

“Woah,”

 

“What?” Mikey turned to him curiously, moving to sit on his bed. He gestured for Pete to join him. Pete felt his cheeks heat up as he joined Mikey on the bed.

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Pete shook his head and laughed, looking at Mikey warmly. “I’m just,” he shrugged.

 

Mikey laughed and Pete’s smile grew. “Oh. Okay,” he said simply. Pete leaned in and pecked his lips. Mikey blushed. “I hope Gerard didn’t give you a hard time, Pete.”

 

“He just doesn’t want me to hurt you. Kind of foolish, though.” Pete shrugged. “I’ll never hurt you, Mikey.” he leaned into Mikey, which caused the younger man to scoffed and shove him. “Even though you do nothing but hurt me. You witches, you’ll do nothing but break my heart.”

 

Mikey reached up and pushed Pete’s smirking face away, laughing and nudging him with his elbow. “Shut up,” Pete reached for Mikey’s hand and kissed his wrist. He blushed, but pulled his hand away.

“Hey,” Mikey said suddenly. “I was-”

 

“Hey,” Pete repeated, smiling.

 

Mikey chuckled. “I was wondering, did you and Gerard find out who the witch was..?”

 

“Yeah, we found him. I don’t think you want to know who it was, Mikey. He seemed to be an old friend. Just know that he won’t do it anymore.”

 

“Pete, you don’t have to shelter me from it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” he sighed, kissing Mikey’s cheek. “It was, Bob Bryan I think? Bryden? Bryson?”

 

“Bob Bryar?” Mikey fisted the sheets of his bed. He frowned and inhaled through his nose.  _ Oh no. _

 

“He said he’s changed, Mikey. He won’t do it anymore.”

  
Mikey ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “He’s an asshole. I never trusted him anyway”

 

“Don’t worry, Gerard is still talking to him. He wanted me to check on you, to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Mikey looked at the floor but smiled. “I’m fine, Pete.”

 

“Okay, good. Great.” Pete smiled. “Wanna make out?”

 

Mikey laughed and nodded before leaning over to kiss Pete. Mumbling against his lips, Mikey hummed. “Next time, don’t ask.”

 

“Okay.” Pete replied into the kiss.

  
_ Yeah _ , thought Pete.  _ I could get used to this, Mikeyway. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaa sorry this is late

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa the speech patterns and vocubulary are probably not 1690s sorry  
> and I got the palm reading off the internet so it's probably not all that accurate my apologies


End file.
